Thursday, April 21, 2011

The Process Of Remembering Who I Am

Finding yourself is not an easy task. I avoid it at all costs some days. On other days, I am acutely aware that I need to continue searching. I've been trying new things, remembering old things I used to enjoy.

When I was a little girl I used to enjoy swinging on swings, playing with imaginary characters. I used to pretend I was those characters. The spring in Long Island had air was so sweet I could taste it. There was often a soft haze, early in the morning, that I could see when I looked up at the pine trees in that soft light. I would breathe in as deeply as I could. I was too young then to take a picture of it so I committed it to memory, looking forward to the next morning when I could see it again.

I wish I was able to play with my imaginary characters again without the worry that I was not being adult, that something must be wrong with me, that I would be embarrassed. I wish I could remember how to pretend to be those characters again, to swing. Swinging wouldn't be that hard to do, but the rest...I'm not sure. But, I can find the light. I can take a camera today and capture the light so I can look at it again, commit it to memory as I did when I was a child.

The child I was still exists within me. The things I loved as a child I still love today. Part of who I am is that child; perhaps part of remembering who I am is remembering who I was. I still see the light in the trees, still breathe fresh air in as deeply as I can. I still want my imaginary characters; there was safety in the escape I found with them. Some days, I want to be those characters but haven't admitted that to myself until now.

This is part of who I am. 

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Sunday, June 27, 2010

Who I Really Am

That in whom reside all beings
and who resides in all beings,
who is the giver of grace to all,
the Supreme Soul of the universe,
the limitless being -
I am that.

-Amritbindu Upanishad

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

The Beginning.

So today I have an appointment with my therapist. I plan on talking about how sad I was on Sunday, only realizing yesterday that it was Father's Day. Oh, what a tangled weave of thread that is, my relationship with my father.

My father was gregarious, and handsome. Short of stature, at times thin, at times bloated from way too much drinking; still, attractive. I look nothing like him. My eyes are almond shaped, his round. When my parents adopted me they weren't looking for an asian child. They wanted a child who would fit in with the relatives, one they could take to family reunions where he or she would look like their nieces and nephews. They wanted to have a family story similar to everyone else. Well. I am not that. I am not anything like the child they imagined. Our story is not like everyone else's. Sometimes I wonder if I was a mistake, a choice they made that they regretted in the years that passed, especially during my adolescence.

I'm leaving now to see my therapist so I will stop here. I will need quite a bit of time to tell my story; I hope you stick around.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Having Planted A Seed, I Will Tend It

I need a place to have a long conversation with myself, a place to put together the events of the recent and distant past, to make sense of it today. And I need to share it with you.

So, hello. I am Lotus Ling. Let's start on the journey to find out who I am. It will be full of surprises realizations courage and truth.

Let's go.